


Antics

by lowlaif



Series: Domestic Androids and their pet Detectives. [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Comedy, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Memes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 20:59:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15251919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowlaif/pseuds/lowlaif
Summary: Just a funny little thing to remind us that a certain pair of investigators would cause the DPD nothing but trouble.





	Antics

In hindsight, Connor should have taken to account that human unpredictability – especially concerning Hank who never seemed to choose a rational or calculatable approach to things – made every try to predict the most likely scenario that would arise after the recent incidents practically impossible.  

But there wasn’t the slightest possibility that he could have estimated the ridiculous amount of fiasco he would cause in the simple attempt of getting his partner a much-needed date.

“You’re suspended.”

Fowler didn’t even bother to look up from the documents littering his desk, obviously overworked but a lot less tense since the android revolution had passed peacefully. His voice lacked its usual snide, the veins on his neck defined but not popping out in anger. If Connors social relations program hadn’t denied it so vehemently, he might’ve even registered an underlying tone of amusement to the words of their superior.

“Aw, come on Jeffrey, don’t fucking be like that,“ the Lieutenant mused in an equally laid-back manner, although the topic required a more serious approach in Connor’s opinion.

“For a week.”

"Now you’re just picking a fight.”

Connor was amazed that the Lieutenant took the news so well since he remembered how heated the discussions between his partner and the Captain could get and had often become. But he also noticed how the stare of a grey-haired male kept drifting off to a cubicle. A certain cubicle. A man was seated there. His chair was caving in beneath his weight, groaning almost pitifully. Most of it was muscle mass anyway with an especially to his age advantageable fat percentage of 10.  It was an attractive male specimen, but also someone you wouldn’t consider as approachable.

Hank’s love interest.

Of course.

That’s why the android had attempted to get them closer to each other, to work as partners for a while and start a conversation that didn’t revolve around the broken coffee machine. It would have been beneficial to him, too. Getting used to someone else rather than the eccentric and hard-boiled Lieutenant would provide him with the necessary social skills he was still lacking up to this day. And he would finally get a break from all the illogical jokes the older male kept spewing, because although Hank referred to them as >memes< and considered them to be >classic<, Connor just didn’t understand them.

Theoretically, it should have been a simple plan that excluded the possibility of failure. But the woman working alongside Hank’s love interest had turned out to be someone his social relations program could only describe as unpleasant, clinging to the obviously disinterested man in a way that lacked dignity and decency.

So, Connor tried to make her understand her advances were useless. First with a few exchanged sentences (she ended up spilling her coffee to his face and leaving him dripping in the middle of the precinct). Then with rather crude gestures of disfavor (which led her to the erroneous assumption that he was somehow envious of her). It took a long while until he finally snapped and began sabotaging her actively. At some point, it even became more of an amusing pastime that kept his systems sharp and accurate, just like his little coin tricks that kept annoying the Lieutenant to no end. Exchanging her perfume and filling the vial with aftershave, programming her social media to change every single self-portrait into a prerecorded file of Hank’s choice (“Pick Rick Astley!”), messing up the files of smaller cases since she hardly ever occupied herself with them, and was prone to making mistakes subsequently.

They were childish pranks, really, but it took him a while until he finally noticed that he was having fun instead of actively reaching the carefully calculated result he had aimed for.

And now they had led to this. The case of a stolen wallet led to a famous actor being accused of evading taxes summing up to two million dollars, just because she’d read out of the mixed files Connor had given her without checking them beforehand. At a press announcement. She didn’t even skim through them, surprised like the present news correspondents at the news of such a big shot star involved in a crime. The damage was done, his reputation harmed and the “poor” woman picked out as a scapegoat by the DPD, who had to deal with a lot of media backlash in the current days.

That’s why Connor was surprised that neither of the males in front of him surpassed their usual stress levels. Not even their cholesterol bar seemed to have risen in the past minutes. He was almost dumbstruck by the amount of relaxation in the air.

“Detective Blaguer told me all about your little pranks, and since you’re not a little kid anymore, I’m going to have to let you go for a while, Hank. At least until the fucking paparazzi don’t jump through our windows anymore,” the Captain sighed exasperatedly.

A loud crash resounded in the precinct. Some yells ringed out. Fowler grimaced.

“And now get lost before I make you pay compensation for the emotional trauma she went through.“

Connor couldn’t imagine a woman like her to be disheartened by this amount of attention, even if most of it would be considered negative. She was strange like that.

“That’s so sad. Connor, play >Despacito<.”

“You know what. Get out of here, you’re suspended for a month.”


End file.
